Too Much of the Same
by armichaelson
Summary: Jules was used to the way things were. When her life changes it takes a while to decide if it's for the best or worst. When she does open up, she has to decide if it was worth it all along. Negan /OC
Jules wasn't strong in the physical sense, more emotionally, mentally. But sitting in an empty room stripped of her clothes, left in nothing but her bra and panties was definitely weakening in every sense of the word. She had been in there for three days. They had opened the door long enough to give her a little food and some water, but that was it. She hadn't eaten, and she'd only had a sip of the water. The woman that would give her the food and water would always try to speak to her, but she never opened her mouth.

In truth, Jules was scared for the first time in a long time. She had gotten used to the way life was, the running, the constant moving. It comforted her. Sitting still, not knowing who or what was waiting for her, terrified her. She had nothing to barter with, nothing to offer.

The commotion just outside the door of this tiny room unsettled her. It had been mostly quiet since she had been in here, so it was a change. From her place on the thin mattress against the wall she braced herself as shadows passed and then stopped in front of her door. Drawing her legs up to her chest, she suddenly felt very modest.

When the door opened she could only see the large shadow of a man filing the doorway. He laughed, and the sound was almost too loud. Taking a few steps into the room, he sighed. "You're a tiny fucking thing. Go ahead and stand the fuck up for me."

Jules hesitated, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. She wanted to disappear, dissolve into the wall behind her.

"I'm not fucking asking again."

Clenching her jaw, Jules stood, her arms crossed over her chest. She could feel his eyes over each piece of skin. Her feet, small and dirty from the floor, her legs hopefully weren't shaking, moving up to her navy blue panties and the few visible inches of bare stomach her arms weren't hiding. She hung her head, knowing her face looked as weak as it felt.

"Well aren't you a fucking picture." The man looked over his shoulder, talking to the woman behind him, but Jules didn't hear. As weak and pathetic as she felt, she wasn't going out that way. Dropping her arms she made a mad dash across the room, her eyes on the space between the man and the doorway. She didn't know what was out there, where to go, only that need to run that filled her to the core.

A strong arm reached out and grabbed her waist, then a hand was on her throat and she was against the wall, her toes barely touching the floor. Her eyes finally saw his face, and she was half surprised to find he was handsome. "Where the fuck are you running off to?" He examined her face, her full lips, dark blue eyes, and settled there. "Settle the fuck down, trying to be fucking civil with you."

Jules had been holding on to the wrist of the hand that held her neck, she relaxed her grip and let her hand fall to her side. In turn he released her, but still kept her trapped between his body and the wall.

"Who are the others in your group?"

Jules dropped her gaze to the buttons on the front of his shirt. It helped not to have to look at him as she tried to make her voice strong instead of scared. "My grandpa, Henry. The other we met a few months back."

His hand reached out to her face and she flinched. HE continued and raised her chin to she was looking at his face. "You want old grandpa to fucking live, don't you?"

She nodded. More than anything. "Yes."

"Then you have two fucking choices. Option one, you say yes. You take good fucking care of me, and I take care of you and yours." He took a step back and sighed. "Option two, doesn't look so great for either of you. I can fucking promise you that."

Jules chewed on her lip, there wasn't a whole lot of wiggle room in those options. But thinking clearly, she knew there wasn't much choice there. She could 'take care' of him, or probably die a painful death, her grandpa would die a very painful death. She knew she had been lucky to make it this long without having to make a choice like this. This new world wasn't easy or fair for women, it was hard and cruel.

"Tick fucking tock, sweetheart."

She nodded. "Yeah."

He reached out and moved her hair out of her face, "What was that?"

"Yes. I take care of you, you take care of me." The words tasted sour in her mouth.

"That's a good choice." He grabbed the blanket off the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders. Jules felt dazed as she stepped into the bright hallway, her eyes on the floor as the man spoke to the woman before walking away, leaving her there.

"He wants you cleaned up, so follow me."

Jules nodded, letting the woman lead her towards a doorway at the end of the hall. She motioned towards her boots, and Jules slid her bare feet inside. She had missed them. As they walked outside, Jules looked around. There were lots of buildings, some of them had seen better days, but they had done there best to make them right again. And people. There were lots of people, even children.

The woman led her towards a small building, motioning her inside first. There were clothes everywhere, all of them were in much better condition that the ripped jeans and t-shirt she had arrived in. The woman went through the building grabbing various items, shoving them inside a paper bag. When they reached the door the woman placed the bag in Jules arms.

"Try not to look so scared. You have it good, trust me."

Jules nodded, following her outside again. She went inside one more building, this one much smaller, and grabbed a bag off a shelf before walking out again. This time they walked out again, and towards one of the bigger, nicer houses she had seen. Inside, it was furnished nicely, if a little mismatched. The woman led her upstairs, opening a bedroom door before motioning her inside.

"Bathrooms there, clean up and get dressed. He'll be back soon, you'll have dinner then."

"Who is he?"

The woman turned halfway, her red hair a soft faded color. She almost looked pretty. "His name is Negan. Get cleaned up."

With that, the woman shut the door, leaving her alone. She opened it again a second later. "There's someone downstairs, and at each door in case you thought about running."

She shut it again and Jules let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Grabbing the two bags the woman had left with her, she set them on the bed, opening the smaller of the two to find shampoo, conditioner, soap, a toothbrush and a shaving razor. Taking the contents with her, Jules went into the bathroom and nearly cried. There was a large tub in the corner, wide and deep, practically calling her name. She never thought she'd be able to take a bath again.

Turning the knobs above the tub for waterr, she was shocked to find it running, and hot. Setting the bottles of soaps on the small table net to the tub, along with the razor, she went to the mirror. Opening the top drawer, she found a tube of toothpaste, so using her new toothbrush, she brushed her teeth. After rinsing her face, Jules stared at her reflection and dropped the blanket from around her shoulders. Her body was skinny, as expected, and dirty. her hair fell almost to her waist, darker blonde at the roots and naturally lighter at the tips, thanks to the sun. The few tattoos she had were burried under layers of dirt, but she knew they were there. A dark feather on the inside of her arm, a swirl of peonies on her hip, and her favorite book quote on her ribs. _He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same._ How wrong did that end up being.

Turning away from the mirror, Jules undressed and got into the tub. The water was almost too hot, and nearly burned her skin, but she settled into the tub and dunked her head under the water. She washed her hair first, twice, and then conditioned it. The bathroom smelled like flowers as she scrubbed her body until it was shiny and pink. The razor at the edge of the tub was a definite luxury. She lathered up and shaved for what felt like the first time in forever. Once she was bare and clean, she emptied the water out and rinsed her hair. After she was finished, she wrapped her body in a large blue towel and combed her hair out with her fingers.

In the bedroom, she emptied out the bag of clothes, finding a few pairs of panties, and no bras. One of the tank tops had a built in shelf bra, so she slid it on, along with a pair of black panties and leggings. A gray cardigan lay at the bottom, so she slid it over her arms and put on the only pair of socks inside before tossing the rest in the bag.

Yawning, she crawled onto the bed, curling up in the center before closing her eyes. She relaxed into the mattress, her body feeling like it had been running for the last year, which it kinda had been. She had just dozed off when she heard the door slam downstairs. Getting off the bed, she slid her boots on before going downstairs.

She managed to find the kitchen by smell alone, her stomach growling as she stood in the doorway. Inside an older woman stood at the stove, pouring what she thought was soup, into bowls. At the table, Jules saw the back of a man, pouring amber colored liquid into a glass before knocking it back.

"Are you hungry, dear?"

Jules looked back at the older woman. Her face was kind and wrinkled, but her hair was pulled back into a smooth bun. She nodded, her eyes on the bowls in her hands. "Come on then."

The older woman motioned her towards the seat at the man's right, waiting until she sat down to place the bowls of soup in front of them both. There was a plate of homemade bread in the center, along with two glasses of water. She patted him on the shoulder before sighing. "Well you all enjoy, I'll be back in an hour or so to clean up."

Jules wished she stayed, but remained silent as she heard the woman's footsteps walk away, then the door shut behind her. Fidgeting with her hands in her lap, Jules looked up at the man next to her. He was staring back, a grin on his face. It made him look boyish, the dimples in his cheeks both relaxing and setting her on edge. "You clean the fuck up nice."

He smiled again, "What was your name again?"

"Jules." Her voice sounded more sure than she was. "And you're Negan."

HE nodded. "I am." He motioned towards the large bowl in front of her as he poured himself another drink. "Eat up."

She took a bite of the soup, the warmth spreading throughout her body within seconds. It was good. So good.

"Guess i should explain the fucking rules. You stay loyal to me, and fucking me only. No straying. You aim to please me. You do as I say, when I fucking say it, clear?"

Jules nodded. "Sounds like marriage."

She meant it sarcastically, but he nodded. "It is."

The blonde looked up at him. He was serious. In his eyes, she was his wife, and he was her husband. She sat back in her chair, her legs crossed under the table. For some reason, this conversation had given her more courage than it should have. "So you would be my husband now?"

He nodded, downing his drink. She grabbed the bottle in front of him and poured another into the glass after he placed it on the table. Before he could pick it up again, it was in her hand. She made eye contact with him as she brought the glass to her lips, drinking it all down. "Kind of ironic." Her throat burned, but she enjoyed it.

He was grinning at her, enjoying her boldness. "What is?"

"I never imagined myself the marrying type." She set the glass back on the table and the corner of her mouth tilted up . "I pretty much suck at the whole, healthy relationship, bit."

She watched him get up, still smiling, and got another glass from one of the cabinets. When he sat back down he poured them each another drink. Jules had a few more spoon fulls of soup before sipping on her drink, when she finished it was refilled and she started over again. Once her bowl was empty her body felt warm all over. She knew it was the mix of alcohol and the warm soup, but even so, so had never felt so relaxed.

Slipping her boots off under the table, Jules slipped the cardigan off and set it on the back of her chair before bringing a knee to her chest, letting the heel of her foot rest on the edge of the chair. Negan watched her fluid movements, enjoying the view as she stretched her arms above her head. The navy blue tank top she wore was tight and fitted against her body, coupled with her lack of a bra, he swallowed thickly.

Jules laughed, shaking her head as she caught his gaze. "I could feel you undressing me with your eyes."

He shrugged, downing another drink. "Well you're hot as fuck. What's a guy to fucking do?"

Jules watched him as he stood, pushing his chair back before grabbing the bottle and their glasses. "Get your fuckin' ass upstairs."

 **AN-**

 **I'm sure Negan is out of character, but meh, I love his character already and couldn't wait to write something.**

 **Review and follow, please! And prepare for total Negan fangirling ;)**


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